The Musical Box
by MimiK
Summary: A souvenir of the past is broken. Will it be repaired? - Andith, AU, spoilers for series 5
1. After the Fire

_A/N: No idea, why this came in my mind, but here it is. A bit fluff, Andith. Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>The Musical Box<strong>

_Chapter 1 – After the Fire_

„It's a shame what happened to all these lovely things", Mrs. Hughes said to Anna, while they were cleaning Lady Edith's room after the fire.

"Yes, indeed", Anna replied. "But imagine what could have happened, if the fire spread all over the house." She was glad that the accident only took place in this room. How stupid to throw something into a lightened fireplace and not to look after it!

Mrs. Hughes nodded. "I don't want to imagine such thing", she added.

She overlooked the dressing table. All the hairbrushes and combs, the make-up jars and palettes were blackened with soot. It wouldn't be difficult to clean them, but Mrs. Hughes was sure that Lady Edith wouldn't use them again. Maybe some of the female staff would look forward to get this equipment.

Of course, she had to ask Lady Edith, if and which of the items she'd love to keep.

"What is this?" Mrs. Hughes wondered when she discovered a box, perhaps a jewellery box, close to the edge of the table, nearly hidden behind the mirror.

Anna turned around. "It's a musical box, I suppose. Lady Edith keeps it quite a while, but I only saw her once playing it."

Mrs. Hughes tried to clean the box cover with a cloth and opened it carefully afterwards. "I'm afraid it's broken."

"Maybe Mr. Baremiller can fix it", Anne suggested. The village's clockmaker was a very skilled man. Most likely he would be able to clear the soot from the tiniest part of the musical box.

"What a brilliant idea. It would be a pity, if such a fine piece would be ruined forever."

XXX

"I am very sorry, Lady Edith, that we couldn't save more things from your room", Mrs. Hughes apologized.

Edith shook her head. "It isn't your fault, Mrs. Hughes, nor Anna's, but mine alone", she told the housekeeper. "I was so stupid to set fire…" She sighed.

"If you agreed", Mrs. Hughes hurried to take Lady Edith's mind off her worries, "I would send one of the girls with the box to Mr. Baremiller's shop."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. I think, I'll go on my own."

Actually, Edith hadn't decided so far, if the box would be repaired or not. Placed on the very edge of her dressing table, she had almost forgot it – or at least had tried to do so very hard.

She didn't know, why she hadn't thrown the box away long ago. It was of no use for her. Not now, but it had been in the past. She reminded the tune it used to play and Edith felt sick, when she thought about it.

On the other hand, it had been the melody, which had come in her mind as her first lullaby for Marigold. For which reason ever.

Perhaps she should give the box to her daughter. The girl was very fond of music.

Carefully Edith touched the now black wood. She remembered the bright, delicate colour of the cover. Finally, she opened a small, hidden drawer. It was still there.

Reluctantly Edith removed the little stone from the drawer and kept it her hand. It wasn't effected from the soot or the heat of the fire, but simply looked the same as on the day it was given to her.

She had never sent it back to its owner. First she hadn't thought about it. Later she had felt awkward to do so.

When she thought about the trouble caused, the smooth surface of the stone felt strange in her hand. For throwing the memories arising in her mind away, she put the stone back and closed the drawer forcefully.

Marigold was supposed to be sent to Downton in the afternoon and Edith was excited to spend some time with her unobserved. She planned to show her daughter the library as well as the ponies in the stable.

XXX

Three days later Lady Edith entered Mr. Baremiller's shop.

"Good day", she greeted him.

"And a good day to you, Lady Edith", the old man replied. "How can I help you?"

Edith open the bag she carried and put the musical box on the shop counter. "I'd like to know, if you see any possibility to repair this item. It was in my room during the fire and I'd like to keep it."

The clockmaker examined the box most intensive. He opened the cover as well as the back cover, inspected the mechanism inside and finally sighed.

Edith immediately lost all hope. But, she told herself, it could not be, what should not be. The box was a relict to her past and as much as she had hoped that Marigold would like it as much she felt a kind of relief that it would be gone.

"It would be some effort to clean all of it, but I think, I'm able to repair it", Mr. Baremiller interrupted Edith's thoughts.

"Pardon?" Edith was puzzled.

"I think, the repair should be possible", the clockmaker replied patiently.

He had always liked the young Crawley ladies and remembered very well the first time each of them had come to the shop. In Lady Edith's case, it had been when his father had just given up to be the clockmaker in the village. She had come with her mother to ask for the repair of an old clock she had damaged during a hide and seek with her older sister.

"That are good news, Mr. Baremiller." Edith thanked the man and smiled.

She still felt puzzled inside, but she was now more than willing to pass the musical box to her daughter. Maybe she would tell her the whole story about it, when Marigold was older, but despite its history this delicate piece of craftsmanship deserved another chance to be loved dearly.


	2. The Box in the Window

**The Musical Box**

_Chapter 2 – The Box in the Window_

Sir Anthony Strallan had just returned from a extended journey to the continent. After three days more or less hiding in his library at Locksley he had decided to do a walk through the village.

It was, of course, less anonym than in London, but Sir Anthony discovered that the people met him more with the usual politeness than with the expected condescension. In the end, it was no surprise. A lot of other things had happened since the day, since the decision, which effected his life so deeply. People were busy with their own affairs.

He was greeted more than three, four times very polite and he greeted back in the same way.

Luckily he hadn't met someone from the Crawley household so far. It would be awkward for both sides not knowing what to do or how to react. There was no guide book for the social interaction with the man, who had jilted a daughter of the house. In fact, there was no interaction with such a man at all.

Sir Anthony finished all his businesses as soon as possible, but not in a hurry. He enjoyed being back in Yorkshire and for quite a while he even forgot to feel guilty.

The day was sunny. Maybe he could visit some of his tenants later. Frederick Waters, his steward, did his job well, but from time to time Anthony felt the need to listen to the people working on the estate by himself.

Deep in thoughts about the estate he didn't realise that he stopped in front of the clockmaker's shop. Just as he decided to continue his way, one of the items displayed in the window caught his attention.

It was a musical box that his gaze had fallen on. He swallowed. A sobering reminder of happier days. The object was special to him and he remembered it very well.

After only a few moments of hesitation, Anthony entered the shop. Mr. Baremiller welcomed him at once.

"How may I help you, Sir Anthony?"

The customer hesitated again.

"I discovered a beautiful musical box in the window", he finally said. "Is it for sale?"

"Beautiful, indeed", Mr. Baremiller murmured. He opened the door, which separated the window from the shop, and removed the box. "Thankfully, it wasn't damaged by the fire, only effected by the soot…"

"The fire?" Anthony asked. "Which fire?" He was alarmed.

"I forgot that you've been away, Sir Anthony." Mr. Baremiller took his time. "There had been a fire at Downton."

His visitor grew pale.

"… Nothing serious happened, but Lady Edith accidently set fire to her room and this little treasure didn't work afterwards."

"What about Lady Edith?" Anthony asked. His face was still chalk white.

"As far as I know, she was rescued by one of the staff", Mr. Baremiller said and added: "No harm done. She came by herself to ask me to repair this box."

Anthony relaxed. Obviously Edith was well. He longed to ask her himself, but there was no way to contact her personally.

He sighed.

Mr. Baremiller used this moment of silence to open the box. "Dalla sua pace" from Mozart's "Don Giovanni" filled the room immediately. The playing mechanism still created a lively and perfect sound. The tone was still natural.

The tune however tortured Anthony. When he had chosen it for this musical box, his engagement gift to Edith, he had thought of the first concert they attended together, of the many times they had spent in harmony.

"Doesn't it sound magnificent?!" Mr. Baremiller interrupted Anthony's thoughts. "I'm glad that I was able to revive it. Lady Edith told me that she might give it to the child."

A child?

Anthony stared at the clockmaker. He had never been eager soaking up gossip or reading society updates in the newspapers, but he knew for sure that his sister would have tortured him with the news of Edith's wedding, if there would have been one.

"Which child?" he therefore asked the clockmaker.

"Oh, little Marigold Drew, poor child. She's an orphan living with the Drew family now. Lady Edith administers the girl's need now. Like a godmother, I suppose."

So, no marriage and no motherhood, Anthony thought and didn't know, if he should be relieved or not.

"Do you know that this box hides a secret drawer?" Mr. Baremiller smirked. "When I was cleaning the item from the soot, I found this inside." He opened his hand and offered his visitor the little stone.

Anthony took a deep breath. Not only that Edith had not banned the musical box from her sight, but she also kept his lucky charm that he had given her instead of an engagement ring.

He didn't know what to think about all this exactly, but a warm feeling grew in his chest. It had been his demand that Edith should be happy with younger, more fortunate man. Despite this there was the silly happiness that she still thought of him. At least from time to time.

"All this work to clean and repair this musical box has to be not only time-consuming, but expensive", Anthony said. "Please allow me, Mr. Baremiller, to settle the account."


End file.
